


Future Past

by alyyks



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: GFY, Gen, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-09
Updated: 2016-09-09
Packaged: 2018-08-13 23:42:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7990597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alyyks/pseuds/alyyks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was a man in the Temple with a story too outlandish to not be believed—outlandish even by Master Yoda's standards, who had seen almost 900 years in the galaxy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Future Past

**Author's Note:**

> [Flamethrower](http://archiveofourown.org/users/flamethrower/pseuds/flamethrower), once upon a time, dared me to write: "Someone once desperately wanted to see Jedi Master Luke dumped in the past just for the opportunity for him to bitch out the PT Jedi Council for being idiots/asshats. I dare you, but Clone Wars era when both of his Jedi Masters were kinda nuts." 
> 
> Originally posted [on tumblr](http://alyyks.tumblr.com/post/123770160648).

“A curious occurrence, this is,” Yoda said. He was Grandmaster of the Jedi Order, he was in his ninth century, he had taught generations of Intiates whose names were now history, had seen more than he was able to teach. There were still things out in the galaxy that were lying in wait to surprise him. “Most curious.”  
  
His guest, sitting crosslegged on the second mat pad in the room, rested his head on his folded hands. “It’s rather unusual on my side too. I’d be inclined to believe this is a Force-vision, but it’s—” He paused, long enough for the weight, the mixed awe and discomfort in his words to settle. “It’s a little too real.”  
  
“Hmm,” Yoda hummed, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. “Many legends, there are, of guests from other times. Of displaced beings bringing warnings, many tales. Only distant history lost to us, they are. And of the future, never one there was.”  
  
“Absence of evidence is not evidence of absence,” the man said, and Yoda snorted. His guest spread his hands in answer, continued: “And yet here I am.”  
  
“If who you are, you indeed are.”  
  
“What would be the point of faking my identity? Could I fake that I’m Jedi? Could I fake the information I’ve given you?”  
  
“Outlandish, your claims are.”  
  
“You are the Grandmaster of the Order. Shouldn’t the Force guide you in that decision and show you that I’m not lying?” From anyone else, the question could have been mocking, a cruel taunt—from many, it could have been a ploy, political or otherwise. But the young human here, young in the way all humans were to Yoda, was asking in curiosity, in learning.  
  
“Hm. Always in motion, the future is. Around you, look,” Yoda said, gesturing with his hand. The room they were in had little in the way of decoration, like much of the Jedi Temple. It had been built to withstand time and that alone gave it elegance. It had also been built to be filled by many more being than the two here and the mats they were sitting on. “At the Temple, half-empty. At how few, are our numbers. Long, this war has run. Shadows and betrayals, it brought. In a long, long game, we find ourselves, and the Dark Lord of the Sith, the game master is.”  
  
His guest’s expression had changed at _the temple, half-empty_. There was something else there. Curiosity for things that had passed, a sense of restrained impatience, awe. He hadn’t been allowed to wander the halls, once his presence had been known. How much had he seen? How much did it matter?  
  
“Are you accusing me of being the pawn of a Sith Lord, Master Yoda?”  
  
“A possibility, that is. A responsibility, I have, to this Order, and to the Republic. Until with your story, satisfied I am, our guest you will be, young Luke Skywalker.”  
  
-  
  
It should have been obvious to all that, in true Skywalker and Kenobi fashion, they would find trouble wherever they went. Be it on the edges of the Outer Rim or at the heart of Coruscant, in the very halls of the Order, the pair found themselves in the middle of the most interesting of circumstances.  
  
Which is how Master Yoda—going on his ninth century of existence and almost as long of teaching, wise in all the way his students could find trouble and still somehow surprised at the ways Obi-Wan and Anakin found their troubles—having heard faint noises from the meditation rooms and the associated rumble of a large crowd in a small space, found Obi-Wan and Anakin, freshly back from their Outer Rim post for leave and re-arming.  
  
The sparing room that had been commandeered was filled with the Jedi who were still in the Temple—younglings and Padawans too young for the front lines, Sentinels, convalescing Knights and Masters, and many of the members who were Temple-bound. In the middle, in a space barely wide enough for safety, Obi-Wan, Anakin and young Luke were facing each other.  
  
Yoda walked in quietly, wrapping the Force around him so as to not attract attention. Young Luke—and seeing him next to two other humans, he didn’t look so young anymore, more of age with Obi-Wan—should have been confined to quarters until the Council was ready and able to convene, but the opportunity to see him in action, against two duelists of the caliber of Obi-Wan and Anakin, was an excellent way to gauge the veracity at least some parts of his story.  
  
Obi-Wan and Anakin attacked as one. Luke parried the attack, almost fell for Anakin’s feint and retaliated in kind, and fast. Luke was—rough wasn’t quite the right term. There was a certain economy of movement that all Jedi seemed to acquire through lightsaber practice and drills repeated since youngling age. Luke didn’t carry that fluidity. He was more direct, more blunt, in his gestures. There was still an economy of movement, but one coming from necessity, from footwork never learned, from—and there Yoda was reaching in movements and Force-intent—teachers too old for anything but the barest basics.  
  
Seeing him and Anakin face each other only, as Obi-Wan took several steps back, the physical resemblances were obvious. And in the Force—the Force was singing, louder than it had been in years.  
  
“Beautiful,” whispered the old Master Yoda was standing next to.  
  
“Hmm,” was his only answer. He drove his stick to the floor, twice. The sound cut through the clashing lightsabers, and all eyes turned to him. “Thank Master Kenobi, Knight Skywalker, and Luke, we should. Very impressive, this was.” It had been a striking demonstration of skills, all the more striking with the background of the war and the knowledge of other Force-users who were able to fight, and had fought, Jedi in duels.  
  
Luke and Anakin saluted each other before bowing to Yoda. “Thank you, Master,” they said, and the resemblance ended there. The voices were too different, the mannerisms distorted from one to the other. The room cleared fairly quickly, in murmurs and brushes of robes against the floor.  
  
“Much we have, to talk about,” Yoda said to the three of them before they went anywhere. Three? Yes, three, it echoed in the Force. Anakin was a part of this, no matter how little Yoda liked involving more people in this matter. “With me, come,” and they fell into step with him, discreetly trailed by the two Sentinels who were supposed to have kept young Luke from wandering around.  
  
-  
  
The atmosphere in the Council Chamber was—questioning. It was questioning the presence of Anakin, standing arms crossed behind his master’s chair, questioning the absence of the members who could only be reached by holo-communication—Shaak Ti, and Plo Koon, and Eeth Koth, Adi Gallia’s empty seat left open—, questioning the presence of the human wearing black standing in the middle.  
  
From Luke, there was only undisguised curiosity come through—and a solidity, an inner certainty Yoda would have liked to see echoed in Anakin.  
  
“A most curious occurrence, faced with we are. Tell us, young Luke, of your story.”  
  
“Master Yoda, Master Jedi—” the absence of any kind of bow or nod was noted, “to be perfectly honest I have no idea how I came to be your guest. My last memory was of being in the training grounds of Yavin IV. That—and of being 35 years into your future.”  
  
This, this brought a ripple of quickly dashed feelings and questions in the present councilors.  
  
“I am aware this is a bold claim; and while I do not have access to this information, Master Yoda assured me that while there were stories of being displaced in time, they were always coming from the past into the present, and most of those stories are considered tales.”  
  
“Long lost tales, for the most part, stories read to entertain crechelings and younglings. While tales have their truths, those are seen as fabrication,” Mace said. “What makes your story different?”  
  
“I know how history goes, how the war goes. Of course, if this is not an alternate to the timeline I live in.” Luke shrugged. “I never had the opportunity to study Temporal Physics; not a priority, and too much information was lost.”  
  
“That’s twice you mention information—and Temporal Physics are a known Jedi domain of studies,” Obi-Wan said, leaning forward.  
  
Luke turned his attention of Obi-Wan, arms being his back. His body language had shifted through the discussion, from relaxation to a military bearing Yoda had come to see often, even in the halls of the Temple. “There was no more Jedi in my time.” The silence had weight—the Force stilled, rang true through his words. “We are few and far between. Some survived the destruction of the Order and its eradication, but hid and adapted. Some rejected the name, were taken in other Force-traditions. And then those tradition were hunted down. Here’s what I know, here’s what I think the Force brought me for: the Clone Wars were orchestrated by the future Emperor, and Dark Lord of the Sith, to take control of the galaxy and destroy the Order—and he succeeded. At least in my time.”  
  
“The name of this Emperor?”  
  
“Palpatine,” and it was said with such truth, with nothing but clarity in the word, that no-one in the chamber could find grounds to reject this.  
  
For an instant, the Force rang with such clarity it pushed away Darkness.  
  
Then Darkness prevailed, and voices rose, Anakin’s loudest of them all.  
  
“You dare—!”  
  
Luke waited, his eyes going to Obi-Wan, then to Mace and Yoda, the only ones to not say anything. “While you talk and dither, you are wasting time—time you do not have.” Luke shook his head. “History was purged, after the Empire rose. I don’t know what happens when, or how. But I know this: the Temple is destroyed, its inhabitants are killed, the knowledge of over a thousand years disappear in one night. And for twenty-six years, Darkness falls on the galaxy.”  
  
“Those are tall tales you bring us—even with the Force backing you. What’s to prove you are not deceived, and deceiving us in turn?” Ki-Adi-Mundi asked.  
  
“The fear of destruction has been plaguing the galaxy since this war began. Bringing such dire warning, such outlandish claims, to our very door—“ Mace shook his head. “Whose game are you playing, I wonder?”  
  
From Light and curiosity, the atmosphere in the Chamber went back to—oh. It went back. Back to stagnating and murky, hidden meanings and hidden shadows. Yoda closed his eyes, frowning.  
  
Luke crossed his arms in front of them, his face carefully blank, his Force presence tightly coiled around him. “With all due respect, you are not my masters. My masters were caught in a web they became too intertwined in to break. My masters were too bogged down in politics and schemes to even hear the Force by the time the war came. My masters were old beings who isolated themselves away from the universe waiting for someone else to fix what they were too blind to see breaking in the first place.  
  
You are Jedi. _Act like it._ ”  
  



End file.
